


I Don't Wanna Live Forever

by InsightfulInsomniac



Series: Band of Brothers Songfics [1]
Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Heavy Angst, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pining, Post-War, Romance, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-10-17 22:39:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10603746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsightfulInsomniac/pseuds/InsightfulInsomniac
Summary: Sometimes Lieb does call Web's name from the safety of his childhood home, just to see how his name feels on his lips, just to see if he still remembers how his voice sounds when he says his name.His voice sounds longing. Broken. Lovesick.A songfic to ZAYN and Taylor Swift's song "I Don't Wanna Live Forever." I do not own any of their lyrics.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This song always makes me think of Lieb and Web, so here's my angsty take on that vision. Apparently, I can only write heart-wrenching stories to these songs.

_Been sitting eyes wide open behind these four walls, hoping you'd call_

It hasn't even been three months since the war ended, but Joseph Liebgott still misses David Webster.

His Ma worries about him -- she worries that he's not eating enough, that he's not talking enough, that he's drifting back to the battlefield. While all of her worries are somewhat true, Joe can't bring himself to tell her that while the sounds of shells exploding and the bloodcurdling screams that followed still echo in his head, he keeps drifting back to the blue sea of Webster's eyes, eyes that he hasn't seen since that last ferry into New York.

  
_It's just a cruel existence like there's no point hoping at all_

All of the letters he'd received told of heartbreak, misery, and distance. Web was alone in New York, stifled by his parents who didn't care much about what he went through. Yes, they'd boast about their honorable soldier son to all of their uppity socialite friends, but once the parties were over and the wine stopped flowing, they were back to belittling him about his major, his choices, and god, he hasn't even told them that he's gay.

Lieb knows they're both hurting, but he can't bring himself to write back.

_Baby, baby, I feel crazy, up all night, all night and every day_

The nightmares only get worse without anyone to comfort him. Joe's Ma is quick to wake and run into his room when the screams get loud enough, but she doesn't understand why every time she shakes her lost, terrified son awake, the first word to roll off of his lips is "Web?"

She assumes it's a war buddy, but she never asks. She's too scared of the fear in her son's eyes.

When Joe does awaken, covered in a cool sheen of sweat, he can't help but let a few tears fall as he grasps at his hair angrily. How does missing someone do this to him? How does Web do this to him?

  
_Give me something, oh, but you say nothing_

Joe's written back one time, and it was only a few sentences on the back of an old photograph of the two of them. He wrote it early in the morning, after he had just woken up from a particularly bad nightmare about, surprise, surprise, losing Web.

In shaky lettering, Lieb scrawled his address and the words "come over any time," on the back of the photograph. He waited for two weeks with no response, not even the typical weekly letter.

Has Web given up on him?

  
_What is happening to me?_

Lieb asks himself that question every night, every morning, and every day. He doesn't leave his room very often, and he almost never leaves the house. His plan of getting his job at the cab company is put on hold, because if Lieb ever drives past the Pacific again, he'll be reminded of Web and his love of sharks and the sea and his impossibly turquoise eyes.

A sob escapes his chapped lips, and Lieb forces the tears to stay welled in his eyes. 

  
_I don't wanna live forever, 'cause I know I'll be living in vain_

When the war was over, Lieb had been overjoyed. He'd hugged Webster, he'd kissed Webster behind the equipment shed, and he'd fucked Webster that night in a small, abandoned farmhouse. He felt like he was immortal -- they had survived, and they had survived together.

But now, in the silence of his room in San Francisco, he doesn't think it's worth living forever if he can't kiss the cocky smirk off of Web's face, muffling his Harvard-learned words with a simple touch.

  
_And I don't wanna fit wherever_

His Ma tries, she really does. She brings old friends to the house to talk to him; she encourages his younger siblings to play cards with him after dinner. But while he's home with his family, where he used to fit, he doesn't fit at all.

He's missing his other half.

  
_I just wanna keep calling your name until you come back home_

  
Sometimes Lieb does call Web's name from the safety of his childhood home, just to see how his name feels on his lips, just to see if he still remembers how his voice sounds when he says his name.

His voice sounds longing. Broken. Lovesick.

_I'm sitting eyes wide open and I got one thing stuck in my mind_

Web wonders if Lieb has forgotten about him. He wouldn't blame him.

He's written to him, sure, but he's only received one response. And while Web desperately wants to take him up on his offer of an open home, he can't leave his studies, his parents, or his suffocating life.

In reality, Webster knows he can put his education on hold. In reality, Webster knows he can face being disowned when he tells his parents that he's gay and he's moving to California to move with his... what is he?

  
_Wondering if I dodged a bullet or just lost the love of my life, oh_

Boyfriend sounds too official. Considering that they hadn't seen each other for over two months, he doesn't feel right creating names for the two of them.

His lover? Friend-with-benefits?

A dying flame?

Love of his life?

  
_Baby, baby, I feel crazy, up all night, all night and every day_

He's sure Liebgott is suffering just as much as he is. From what he's heard from the other guys, no one is sleeping. No one is living normally. Even Winters and Nix, with their happy lives in New Jersey, still write about their abnormally normal lives.

But god, does Webster feel crazy. He has the money, and he can make the time. Why doesn't he just head for Frisco?  


_I gave you something, but you gave me nothing_

Webster gave everything to Lieb. He thought that Joe gave him everything in return, but now he's doubting all they had been. Does he still care?  
What is happening to me?

One dark, rainy New York night, Web impulsively pulls his suitcase out of his closet, throwing all of his belongings into it and a few other bags. It's only two in the morning, but seven o'clock can't come fast enough.

  
_I don't wanna live forever, 'cause I know I'll be living in vain_

His mother's eyes flick worriedly between him and his packed suitcase as his father stands silent, his jaw set firmly. Fingering the folded photograph he stuck in his jacket pocket, Web takes a deep breath, preparing to commit familial suicide.

It's worth it.

  
_And I don't wanna fit wherever_

His father is screaming words of blinding hate at him. Web doesn't even wince. Spit flies from his dad's mouth, tears rolling down his mother's face. "You're a disgrace!" He hears him scream. "First literature, and now you're gay? Get out of my house!"

Webster never fit in with his family anyway.

  
_I just wanna keep calling your name until you come back home_

  
On the train to the airport, Web reads and re-reads the only words he has from Joe directly -- his address and "come over any time." Suddenly, a wave of comfort washes over him, and he can almost hear Lieb's voice calming him. "You're coming home."

_I've been looking sad in all the nicest places_

Web remembers the parties, the fancy suits, and the fancier wine. He remembers being forced by his parents to show his battered, tortured face to the guests all too eager to talk to a war hero.

His million-dollar smile didn't ever match his eyes or his suit.

  
_Baby, baby, I feel crazy_

Lieb definitely felt crazy that one night when he had his mom, clad in a robe and slippers, sit across from him at his desk at four in the morning. She had just woken him up from a nightmare, a particularly bad one that he was sure had him screaming Web's name among the others he had witnessed killed.

Joe's ma had smiled, hugged him, and even laughed when he told her. She was worried, she said. She hopes that Web will come here soon, and that they don't give up on each other.

That night was certainly crazy.

  
_I see you around in all these empty faces_

At all of the social gatherings his parents hosted, Web has sworn he's seen Lieb. He swears that he has heard his sarcastic laugh, seen his lanky frame, and even felt his cheeky smirk. However, Lieb has never been in the sea of empty faces.

He'd been worlds away, seeing Web in all of the empty faces walking outside of his window.

  
_Up all night, all night and every day_

It's funny, Joe thinks, that while he's well-fed and warm, the last time he slept this terribly was in the foxholes of Bastogne. Back when Web was in some unknown hospital, nursing his comfortable life for as long as possible.

But no matter how mad he is, Joe never blames him. He wouldn't want Web to have to experience what he did at Bastogne.

  
_I've been looking sad in all the nicest places_

His mother always insisted he "look sharper" or "be more polite" whenever he would be introduced to some random, wealthy acquaintance at some random, fancy location. David had gotten looks of pity more than a few times, as if to say "oh, how sad, the poor boy's been damaged by war."

But behind his cigarette and glass of champagne, he hides the truth -- he's been damaged by war, but his heart is beginning to hurt more.

  
_Give me something, oh, but you say nothing_

Another letter.

Joe sends another letter, another reminder that his home is open. All he can bring himself to do is write a few short phrases about how if Web could spare the time, he should take a week to come see the Pacific Ocean from the beaches of San Francisco.

But this time, Lieb only waits a few days before giving up hope.

  
_Now I'm in a cab, I tell 'em where your place is_

Web reads off the address to the cab driver, his San Francisco accent reminding David so much of Lieb. He's only miles away from him now, and he wouldn't be surprised if he could hear his heart beating all the way from his childhood home.

Webster can barely think straight as the cab drives on, passing rows of colorful houses and glimpses of the sea. All he can think about is Joe's reaction, and whether or not he's going to punch him or kiss him.

  
_What is happening to me?_

His Ma brings him lunch on a small platter. "Is this about that boy of yours?" She asks with a knowing smile, watching her son stare down at his feet in response.

"He's not writing back," Lieb murmurs, turning the fountain pen Web gave to him over in his hand.

She pats his knee. "I'm sure it'll all work out. You did invite him over here, didn't you?"

He nods. "Twice."

Making her way to the door to his room, she stops with her hand on the doorknob. "Don't give up on the ones you love, Joe."

Love?

  
_I don't wanna live forever, 'cause I know I'll be living in vain_

Joe took his Ma's advice. He decided that today he's going to get his job back at the cab company so he can earn enough money to buy a plane ticket to New York. That way, he can visit Web and save him from his uptight family even if he doesn't want him to.

Shrugging on his olive green jacket, Lieb makes his way to the front door of the house for the first time in about three months. He can feel his Ma's teary eyes on his back as grabs the keys to his neglected cab, and he's just about to grab a mug of coffee off of the kitchen table when there's a knock at the door.

Joe's Ma moves to answer it, but he tells her that he's got it; he's closer. But when Joe opens the door to reveal a smiling, blue-eyed Webster, complete with four suitcases, he can't help but stand silent in shock.

"Surprise!" Webster remarks sheepishly, running a hand through his hair as he takes Liebgott in, noting the sadness in his eyes disappearing with every second he stands there. He's still as scrawny and as beautiful as he used to be, the only difference being the lack of a borderline-malicious smirk on his lips.

"Goddamnit, Web. Warn a guy next time."

David laughs quietly. "I was hoping there wouldn't have to be a next time."

  
_And I don't wanna fit wherever_

That night, tangled in Lieb's bedsheets and in each other, Web sighs into Joe's shoulder. "I missed you."

He's not really one for sweet nothings, but Liebgott kisses Webster's forehead gently, whispering against his sweat-shined skin. "I love you."

Feeling Web's smile against his bare skin feels right. Knowing that he's going to wake up to eyes bluer than the morning sky feels right. Hearing Web repeat those words back to him feels the best.

"I love you too."

They both sleep the best they have in years.

  
_I just wanna keep calling your name until you come back home_

  
The next morning, Lieb finds the bed empty. After trudging his way downstairs with sleep-mussed hair and wrinkled clothes, he smiles at Web's seemingly natural place at the table, nursing a cup of coffee. Joe's Ma is happily chatting with him as if they've known each other for years, and the light in David's eyes indicates that he feels like they have.

Suddenly, Lieb feels a warmth in his chest that he can only describe as pure happiness, something he hasn't felt since the announcement of the war's end.

And judging by the glowing grin Web gives him when he notices Lieb, Webster feels the same way.

They're finally home.

**Author's Note:**

> I love this song so much, and Web and Lieb make it a million times better. Also, sorry for the moment of sappy-fluffiness, by I don't think the words could've gone unsaid between them. So precious!


End file.
